Leave the Light On
by l.w.boxes
Summary: Finn's had a crazy year. His family is exploding. His friends are imploding. When his body gives up on him too, it sets off what could be the worst summer of his life.
1. Prologue

Leave the Light On

* * *

"_When things are bad, we take comfort in the thought that they could always be worse. And when they are, we find hope in the thought that things are so bad they have to get better._"

* * *

In the doctor's office, there is still a jar of suckers on the counter and a height chart that Finn had outgrown at twelve tacked to the wall. Dr. Lemski is a family doctor. With three chins and the bulbous red nose of a long time drinker, Finn figures he's the 'do as I say, not as I do' sort.

"Still growing, eh?" Dr. Lemski shares a wink with Carol Hudson, who smiles awkwardly and runs a hand over her son's back.

"Takes after his Dad that way. Certainly not me."

Finn finds his yearly required sports physical to be a strange sort of examination, involving listening and poking and his mother making stilted conversation about how much she spends on groceries every week just to feed him. He also finds that if he is very quiet through the entire appointment, he will begin to feel like a science project, or a dog, or a car getting a tune-up. He isn't sure which of those he likes best.

"Well, now." Dr. Lemski sighs as he flips through his papers. "All the basics look good. Any other issues? Injuries? Illness?"

Carole shakes her head to each of these. Finn studies his shoelaces.

"Colds? Pains? Shortness of breath?"

She's still shaking her head.

"Fatigue?"

"Yes."

Finn jerks around to look at his mother. "No."

"Please, Finn, I pay more attention to your sleeping habits than you do. Yes."

Dr. Lemski peers at them over his glasses. "Yes?"

There had never been such an interruption in the yearly required sports physical routine before. Finn likes going to the doctor because it reminds him of what good health he has, not because he wants to pick out any bad parts. Sure, he'd been tired lately, there was that whole Vitamin D debacle after all, but that was stress. The hardest year of his life had just happened and doesn't seem to be letting up just yet.

His mother nudges him with her elbow.

Finn bites his tongue and nods.

* * *

The result is being poked with a soda straw sized needle. Tests on his blood tell the doctor that FInn is short on red blood cells. The doctor tells Finn to eat more steak and rest up over the summer. Finn tells his mother that Dr. Lemski isn't so bad after all.

* * *

As it turns out, tires are _expensive_. Replacing the tires on twenty-six Land Rovers is an enormous bill. Match that with a tiny Sheets 'n' Things paycheck and, well, Finn just can't think that hard. Finn will never say it out loud, but Puck is a little smarter than he is so he actually does the math in his head while they're sitting in the break room at work.

Puck stares up at a space on the wall for a good five minutes, before blinking and slamming his fist on the flimsy card table between them. "Holy Shit. We're gonna be working here until we're like..._old_."

"How are we gonna buy houses? And eat?" Finn knows there will come a time, possibly very soon that his mother will stop providing these two basic needs for him at any cost. Luckily, when they had first moved into the Hummel house, she hadn't even put thier house up for sale. She had said there was just too much stuff to sort through right now and that she needed a back-up plan, just in case. It turns out that Finn saying the f-word in range of Mr. Hummel's ears is a 'just in case' kind of situation.

They had moved back to their old house the next day. His mother barely said a word to him for the first week. Then, she started spending an occasional night over the Hummel's. It seemed the more time she began to spend with Burt again, the more she forgave Finn for messing things up in the first place.

"Dude." Puck fixes him with a blank and powerful stare. "If we don't want to spend the rest of our lives working at Sheets 'n' shit, we're gonna need a plan b."

"What kind of plan b?"

"Money." Puck announces. "Fast money."

Finn doesn't understand. "How are we supposed to do that?"

"Listen, I heard on TV about these guys that get paid to donate their sperm to baby banks." Puck, being Puck, probably doesn't realize that anything relating to babies is a bad thing to say, even when Finn looks kind of sick, and even when his own face subconsciously mirrors the expression.

"Bad idea." Finn nods.

"Bad idea." Puck agrees. "Let's think about this."

For the last seven and a half minutes of thier break, they sit, and think.

* * *

It turns out that it's a lot easier to be with Rachel, in a relationship sense, than it is to spend actual time with her.

"Finn," she says, as they stand in line for the movies. "I want you to know that I have arranged a rigorous schedule for us to follow during the off summer months involving daily vocal lessons, bi-weekly choreography training and a saturday afternoon all club practice."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"No. I read the Ohio Show Choir Rules and Regulations pamphlet cover to cover and it states that off season practices are only illegal if they are organized by the host school and/or advisor. That means as long as Mr. Schue isn't there and we aren't at the school, it's okay."

Finn pulls his wallet out of his back pocket to pay for thier tickets. The only movie he kind of wanted to see was a sports movie, about a college soccer team, but he hadn't bothered to mention it. All Rachel could talk about was a generic looking romantic-comedy thing. A chick flick. Finn sighs.

"Rach, you know, I was kind of hoping to take it easy this summer. It's been...it's been a long year and I don't know, I thought we could just relax. Maybe go to the beach."

"We live in Ohio, Finn."

Finn doesn't see how that's relevant. "Yeah..."

"I would really enjoy going to the beach with you." Rachel grabs his arm and leans into his side in such a way that he almost misses what she says next. "However, the difference between average and extraordinary is going to happen now. It's going to happen when we have this off time and we decide to spend it working and getting better, while our competitors laze away on a sandy beach. I've already talked to everyone else, and while met with varying degrees of acceptance, they've all agreed to a saturday meeting at twelve noon at Kurt's house."

"Kurt's house?"

"Yeah. That's okay, right?"

"Sure. I love...Kurt's house." Finn tries to smile.

"Awesome." Rachel dances up on one toe to kiss his cheek. "This is going to be the best summer ever."

At the ticket window, Rachel steps up to the counter. "Two for _Misshapen Love_, please."

Finn hands over the money.

* * *

It's friday night and Finn is watching an old episode of Gomer Pyle on tv. He can feel himself melting into the couch, eyes at less than half-mast. Normally, he would blame being super tired on stress or too much stuff to do, but since babygate went down and now that regionals are over and it's summer break, there's not as much to stress about and his social calender leaves a lot more elbow room.

Tommorow is the first 'practice' at Kurt's house. Finn is actually excited to have everybody together again, but he can't say so much about going back to that house.

The day of the f-bomb drop, he had left, not taken anything with him, just walked out the door and kept going.

He hadn't even gone back to help his mother move any of thier things back. She had said that maybe, they just needed a little more time and to let things cool off. He feels like a guest in a hotel at his own home. Except, it's a hotel that's about to be shut down and swallowed up by a sink hole, or something equally freak and random.

"Finn?" Carol calls from the kitchen.

He lifts his head from the back of the couch. "Yeah?"

"Come here for a minute. Burt has something for you."

Finn didn't even know that Mr. Hummel was in the house. And now that he does, he's half afraid the 'something' is going to be a bullet with his name on it. On the other hand, maybe it's a new car. He thinks that his life is just random enough for something like that to happen.

The trouble is, he never makes it to the kitchen to find out. When Finn stands up from the couch, the room does a crazy, topsy turn and he has to grab at the wall and take a deep breath before stumbling on. The spinning doesn't stop though, it just gets darker, and his attempts to draw a deep breath fail as he only manages short, panicky puffs.

_Oh no_, he thinks. And then he doesn't think at all.

* * *

Finn opens his eyes and he's laying on the couch. For one split second he thinks that maybe he dreamt that, that the whole thing was like one of those dreams he sometimes has where he's falling and then wakes up when he hits the floor. But then Burt leans over the back of the couch and he hears his Mom talking in that choked, tight tone he's only heard from her a few times in his life.

"Thank God." Burt reaches down to ruffle Finn's hair. "You're awake. He's awake." He turns and shouts this last part into the kitchen.

Finn is still half confused and half asleep and sort of feeling like that time he and Puck stole a bottle of Wild Turkey and downed...too much of it in the shed behind Puck's house. The world is lazy and heavy around him. His mom is suddenly there, holding the phone to her ear and palming his cheek and looking very sad.

"What...?" He starts to ask, but she's gone just as fast, speaking rapidly into the phone.

"Everythings fine," Burt says. "You're fine."

"Did I fall asleep?" Finn finally manages to ask.

Burt almost smiles at this. "Kind of, yeah. Just don't worry about it, though. It's fine."

"For-for how long?"

Burt looks away to check the time on the VCR. "'Bout twenty minutes."

Finn doesn't know much, but he does know that that's too long. He always thought that fainting was only something that women did like 500 years ago when thier dresses were way too small. The only person he even knows that's ever fainted was his great-great aunt who was about a hundred years old. Plus, she had ended up dying the next week, so maybe that didn't even count. Before he starts to get too panicky about what in the world is wrong with him though, and is he _dying_ or what, his mom is back. She stands beside the couch, clutching the phone with both hands.

"How do you feel, hunny?"

"Okay. Tired."

"Well, Dr. Lemski says this can be normal with anemia." Her eyes flicker from Burt to Finn as she speaks. "He says that we shouldn't worry too much and that you should just rest for the next couple days and we'll keep an eye on you. And, if you're still feeling bad by monday, we'll go in to see him again."

Finn tries to process all of this, but only gets about halfway before his mouth starts moving. "I have...I have stuff to do this weekend. I have this glee thing and I have to work and-"

"Don't worry about any of that. I'll take care of it. Listen, you're going to sleep in my room tonight in case you need something and Burt's going to sleep in your room."

"Only if that's okay," Burt interrupts. "I can sleep on the couch just as easily."

Finn glances at him. "I thought you were mad at me?"

"I'd rather he stay in your room," Carol continues. "It's a lot closer in case I need-in case you need...something."

"Wait a second. You guys are totally freaking out and I don't even know why. I'm totally fine." To prove his point, Finn swings his legs to the floor and sits up. And falls back against the couch, exhausted and breathing fast for no reason he knows.

"Whoa." Burt's hands steady his shoulders.

"Totally...fine." Finn makes a chopping, decisive motion with his hands.

Carol bites her lip hard. "You're staying in my room. Burt's sleeping in your room. I'm sorry if that bothers you." She turns and walks away.

* * *

-_Testing the waters with this prologue. I'd love to hear what you think._


	2. June: Part 1

_"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."_  
_~Oscar Wilde_

* * *

Finn wakes to the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen, the hush of water running in the sink, and Mr. Hummel trying to escape his mother's care.

"I'll just fry up some eggs, a little toast, you have time for hashbrowns, don't you?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll just grab something on the way."

"Let me just scramble some eggs for you. Two minutes."

Finn wrestles a hand out from under the sheets to rub his eyes. Good luck to Mr. Hummel. Finn has dealt with every variety of over-protective Carol Hudson in the last sixteen years and the 'no-leaving the house without breakfast' kind is one of the most insistent.

"Okay." A chair scrapes out from the kitchen table and there's a sigh from Mr. Hummel. "Just eggs. I've got five minutes."

Finn smiles at this. All things put aside, Mr. Hummel is a nice guy and it's nice to have him around. It's nice to have someone else to share the worry for his mother and her happiness.

Finn stretches his arms out as far as they'll go and kicks the blankets off his feet. He feels better today. Still a little tired, but nothing more. He remembers the last time he slept in his mother's bed. He was twelve years old and had the flu of the century. Raging fever, puke and then some. He remembers the bed being a lot bigger then. HIs feet didn't hang off the end, for example. Still, just being close had made him feel so much better. Now, waking up with the summer sun coming in through the window and comforting voices drifting from the kitchen, Finn can hardly wait for the rest of the summer.

With a smile on his face, he sits up and climbs out of bed to start the day.

After that, as it has so many times in the past, everything starts to go down hill.

* * *

On the way from the bathroom to his bedroom to get dressed, Finn is struck with a wave of dizziness that sets the hallway on a slow tilt. He shakes his head, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, but it doesn't help. No matter, he gets dressed quickly. It's already after ten, which means everyone will be at Kurt's in less than two hours.

He makes his way out to the kitchen for breakfast, but his mom stops him on his way and diverts them to the couch with a hand on his arm.

"Here we go, Finn. I got everything you could need. Burt moved your Xbox out here. Here's the phone. Some water. I made your favorite breakfast. Your ipod is right here. I already called Sheets 'n' Things and told them you wouldn't be in for a few days." She smiles tightly as she fluffs a pillow, the pillow from his bed, now on what is apparently his couch bed. His couch bed which resembles a nest of all things Finn.

"Uh...thanks?"

"Did I forget something?"

"No. It's just, I don't really need this, Mom. I'm not sick."

Carol sits down on the edge of the couch, forcing him to sit with her. "Now, the doctor said you should rest. So that's what you're going to do. I mixed some spinach in with your eggs. It's supposed to have lots of iron in it." She pats his leg and picks the plate of breakfast up from the coffee table to hand it to him. "Eat up, babe."

* * *

Getting out of the house to go to the glee meeting, practice, whatever they're supposed to call it, is actually easy. Carol goes out to the backyard to work on the pint-sized garden ("I have my cell phone, Finn. You just call if you need something.") Finn walks out the front door, easy as pie.

Five blocks down, he starts to think maybe it wasn't such a good idea. The sidewalk sways like the deck of a ship and he's breathing like he just finished a set of wind sprints on the football field in late August. He keeps going though; Kurt's house is only two blocks more if he cuts through a couple of backyards.

When he finally gets there, he's the last one to arrive, and tries to hang on the edge of the group, finding a chair on the Hummel's back porch to melt into. He takes a moment to look around. Brittany and Santana are lounging in a couple of chairs on the patio as well, looking like they're trying to work on thier tans. Mike and Matt are practicing dance moves in the shade of a giant oak tree. Puck is leaning against the tree. He doesn't look very happy to be here. Artie is parked on the grass and Tina, Mercedes, and Quinn are sitting around him in the sun. Finn can't help but notice how...small Quinn looks now, like she has shrunken or collapsed inside herself.

"Finn!" Rachel waves from where she is standing, talking to Kurt. She bounces over and sits on his lap just long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek before jumping up again. "I was waiting for you. Why are you sweating so profusely?"

Finn waves a hand through the air in a loopy motion. "It's hot."

"I suppose it is. Well, now that everyone's here, we can get started." She claps her hands and raises her voice. "Okay. First of all I would like to thank everyone for coming. It's a true display of your dedication both to glee club and our uncanny group friendship. Also, thanks to Kurt for offering his house and providing us with a wonderful spread of hors d'oeuvres. I would like to get started right away with a quick warm-up. Kurt?"

Kurt takes his cue to hit play on the CD player. After a moment, the first few chords of 'Lean on Me' begin to play, a song that they can all, more or less, sing together.

Finn sort of tries to mouth along with the beginning from his chair. He listens as everyone else begins to sing and then...as they stop.

"Wait a minute." Mercedes stands from where she was seated on the grass by Tina. "I think we should start with some scales. I mean, that's how we've always done it."

Kurt hits pause to stop the music. "She has a point."

Rachel returns to the center of their circle. "I know that we typically began with scales and arpeggios, however, as we are now in a more relaxed atmosphere, I was hoping to start with something a bit more casual and work our way into more technical exercises over the afternoon."

"Wait a second." Puck steps forward. "Over the afternoon? Just how long are we going to be here? 'Cause I've got...stuff to do."

"Well, I was thinking, since we're only meeting once a week, it should be for a few hours at least," Rachel says.

"What am I doing here?" Brittany wonders.

"When did you decide all of this Rachel? It isn't just your club, you know. It's _our_ club." There's murmured agreement to Mercedes' statement and increasing noise as everyone voices thier ideas. "We should decide these things together."

"I'm the captain," Rachel announces. "That means I'm sort of in charge."

"Finn's a captain, too," Kurt puts in.

Suddenly, all eyes are on Finn. He shifts uncomfortably in the lawn chair.

"What do you think we should do?" Mercedes asks.

"Yeah, Finn." Kurt's tone is just the wrong side of sarcastic. "What do you think?"

All Finn can really think about is how soon he can get out of there and for how long can he keep up appearances. With everyone waiting, he opens his mouth, and prays for something good to come out of it. "Well... obviously we all have a lot of ideas and we all want to be here and...um, so I think we should take a vote."

"A vote?" Rachel looks doubtful.

"Yeah, we can write down what we would like to do over the summer and then talk about it and take a vote."

"I would like to campaign for just a moment in favor of-"

"Wait." Kurt interrupts. "If you're campaigning, I want to campaign, too."

Mercedes raises one hand in the air. "All in favor of running things the way Mr. Schuester ran things?"

"I don't know what's happening," Brittany whispers to Santana.

"No." Rachel's tone has been on a steadily increasing level of shrillness. "Since I organized our meetings _and _I'm a captain, I definitely feel that I should have a greater vote. That's only fair."

"_Fair?_"

"Guys!" Finn stands up and grabs onto the porch railing. "Let's...let's just take a week off. Write down whatever you would like to do this summer and then next week Rachel and I will take a vote. With papers and hats and stuff."

Everyone more or less nods and starts to shuffle off. Finn watches as Rachel gathers her things and then marches over to him with a straight face. "I wish you had backed me up," she says.

Finn doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't say anything at all.

_

* * *

When Finn thinks too hard about something, he usually needs to sit down and close his eyes for a minute. It's easier to concentrate that way. That's pretty much why he spent two hours sitting on a couch in the furniture section at Wal-Mart. _

_Mr. Hummel had just kicked him out. The week before, he'd walked into the Hummel home with 'Welcome Home' banners and sparkling cider and now he was out. That part didn't bother him so much. He hadn't wanted to live there in the first place. What did bother him, was what his mom was going to say. She would probably have to move out, too. She would probably be mad. Mostly, Finn hoped that Mr. Hummel and her wouldn't break up. He was pretty sure that he couldn't handle something like that being his fault._

_He tried to add it all up. All the things Kurt had ever said to him and all the things they'd done and what he'd said just today in that basement. Kurt's basement. Thier basement. Now, just Kurt's basement again._

_Truthfully, Finn liked Kurt. He was a cool guy, strange clothes put aside. Finn just didn't like him in that way. He thought that he had been polite and tried to make that clear, but apparently it hadn't worked out that way._

_It's too much to think about. All Finn ever really wanted was for no one to be mad. Too bad he was typically the one that blew up in the end._

_The walk home from Wal-mart was short and he trudged up the front steps to thier shoebox house with heavy feet. _

_Finn was certain that his mother hadn't taken very many of thier things to the Hummel's yet, though much of it had been packed and sat in boxes piled along the walls. The walls themselves looked bare. Dusty rectangles outlined where photos used to hang. The shelves beside the TV looked bare without all the knick-nacks that typically took up that space._

_The couch still sat in the middle of the room though. And beside it, the chair. Dad's photo on the table. The urn beside that. _

_Finn stumbled the last few feet to the couch and sat down._

* * *

The door is unlocked when Finn gets home. He pushes it open slowly, one hand on the doorframe for balance. He takes a deep breath that only makes the room spin faster and raises his head.

Carol sits on the couch in the middle of the Finn-nest. She looks upset.

Finn opens his mouth to apologize, but he must look at least half as bad as he feels, because she just shakes her head and opens her arms out to him.

He crosses the room in three long strides and falls onto the couch beside her, feels her arms come up around him. He has his face in her shoulder, arms around her back, and before he knows it he's crying, gasping, choking tears and he doesn't even know why.

Everything is a mess and he just can't find the right way to fix it. He feels terrible, tired, and dizzy, and out of breath. He presses closer to his mother, but this time, it doesn't make anything better.


	3. June: Part 2

"_To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go._"  
~Mary Oliver

* * *

On Monday morning, Finn wakes up feeling no better. Except now, he has a fever too, and an uncomfortable, itching, tightness in his chest. Carol takes one look at him and calls off from work. They go to see Dr. Lemski.

Dr. Lemski only talks with them a few minutes before sending them off to the city hospital with a slip of paper. A golden ticket to many, unpleasant hours spent with needles that Finn swears range from licorice size to pvc piping circumference. All of it leaves him feeling even worse. Finally in the car on the way back to Lemski's office, Finn really, really wants to sleep, but Carol is holding the steering wheel with both hands white knuckled around the top. She barely blinks in her stare at the road.

"Mom." It takes a second, but Carol refocuses and glances over at him.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was just hoping you could make some spaghetti tonight."

Carol laughs and then looks surprised at herself for doing so. "Yes, Finn, I can make spaghetti tonight."

Finn leans back in his seat. "Awesome."

* * *

Here's what is not awesome:

Finn hasn't spoken to Rachel since the saturday glee club meeting except for one texting exchange sunday afternoon which went like this:

_hey. whatre u doing?_

_dinnr w. dads and fam_

_cool_

_yep_

Here's what else is not awesome:

The hospital calls Dr. Lemski with test results before Carol and Finn even make it back there themselves. This gives Lemski time to look over everything before they get there, which means that when they walk in the door, Carol takes one look at the doctor's face and starts to cry.

Finn doesn't get it. He settles on patting his mom's back awkwardly. "Hey, don't...why are you doing that?" He looks at the doctor. "Why's she...what's...what's going on?"

"Have a seat," the doctor says. He's looking only at Carol when he says, "It's called aplastic anemia. It's a pretty rare disorder."

Anemia Finn knows. He remembers that Quinn was even anemic for awhile when she first got pregnant last fall, before she starting taking all kinds of vitamins. "A plastic?" he asks. "Is that like, fake? Do I have to take vitamins?" He looks at his mother, but she doesn't say anything. She's sitting there with one hand on Finn's knee and the other covering her mouth.

"Not exactly," Lemski says. "Aplastic anemia means that your bone marrow, the part that makes new blood cells, has stopped working the way that it should. The old blood cells continue to die off, but there are no new cells to replace them, do you understand?"

Finn watches as Carol nods. He looks at the doctor. "I'm running out of blood?"

"Put simply, yes. Red blood cells deliver oxygen to your muscles, that's why you've been so tired, and also the cause of the fainting. White blood cells help you fight illness, without them you'll become sick very easily. I have antibiotics for you to help with the chest infection."

When Carol speaks, Finn barely recognizes her voice. "How...how do you treat the anemia?"

"Blood transfusions. Maybe twice a week or more depending on...a lot of factors. They'll alleviate a lot of the symptoms and while there isn't a limit to the number of transfusions you can have, there is a greater risk of complication the more that you have. Looking to the future, a marrow donor is our best bet. That, or medications to kill off the bad bone marrow. " Lemski's face softens, the red of his nose spreading to the tops of his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. This was the last thing I wanted to have to tell you today."

"It's okay. Thank you, doctor." Carol lets go of Finn's knee long enough to shake the doctor's hand.

"Candy will by out in a minute to help you schedule your appointments." Lemski stands to leave, but before he does, he reaches out to grip Finn's shoulder. He has a sad sort of crooked, tight grin on his face. Somehow, this is the scariest part of the entire day.

When he's gone, Finn can't stop staring at the place where the doctor was standing. "Mom?"

She's fussing with her hair and her bag, hands making useless, fluttering motions, a tissue in the grip of one. "What is it?"

"I'm really sick?"

Carol stops what's she doing and turns to face him. "Yes."

"Am I...is this like...am I gonna die?" He doesn't even realize the possibility until he says it out loud.

"No."

Finn turns at the tone of her voice. "No?"

"Never."

"Okay." Finn nods. That sounds good to him.

* * *

Finn is half-asleep on the couch watching the preview channel scroll by when there's a harsh pounding on the front door.

His mom had disappeared right after they had gotten home. He could hear the murmur of her voice from the kitchen for a while, and then the backdoor opening and closing and then nothing. He waits a minute now to see if she'll show up to open the door. But, she doesn't and the pounding continues.

Finn drags himself up off the couch and pulls the door open.

"Hey PUNK." Puck shoulders his way past Finn into the room. "What's going on?"

"Uh...hi." This is the first time Puck has been over to the house since...in a very long time. "I don't know. What's going on?"

"You being a punk, that's what. What's up with the no show at work, man?"

"Oh..."

"Oh? Come on, dude. You know we gotta pay back like, a million dollars in tires, right? I thought we were doing this job together. How the hell am I the responsible one here?"

"I- I have this thing."

"A thing? What kind of thing?"

Finn realizes pretty quickly that he can't have this conversation standing up and, without saying a word, makes his way back to the couch.

"What the hell's wrong with you, dude?" Puck follows him and sits on the edge of the coffee table. He plucks at the mess of blankets on the couch with two fingers. "What are you, friggin' big bird going into hibernation?"

"I don't think birds hibernate."

"I didn't think Finns hibernated either." Puck returns with a frown.

Finn swallows hard and rubs his hands over the knees of his jeans. "I have this thing."

"You said that already."

"Would you shut up a minute so I can explain?"

Puck leans forward and props his elbows on his knees. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"I have this...problem. It's with my blood." Finn waits for Puck to say something, but he doesn't and Finn struggles to find the next words to explain. "I guess I don't really understand, but it's like, it's like anemia."

"Quinn had that."

"Yeah, but this is, it's worse, I guess. A different kind. They have to give me new blood. Maybe for a long time. My doctor said...he said..." Finn suddenly realizes that he can't remember what the doctor said. When he tries to think back, all he can hear is his mother's voice saying _never_. _Never_.

"It's serious." It isn't a question, so Finn doesn't bother to answer. It is serious. There is something seriously wrong with him and he can't even explain it, doesn't even know why it's happeing. His mouth feels dry and his head is buzzing.

"It's scary," he says and it's like the last year never happened. Puck hooks an arm around his shoulders and pulls Finn into a decidedly unmanly hug.

"It's cool dude," Puck says and, "Don't worry about it," and "I'll kill this shit," and finally, "I'm not scared."

Finn doesn't call him on the fact that he can feel him shaking.

* * *

_It was late summer and in the middle of that short span of time where Puck had already turned eleven and Finn was still ten. The day was incredibly hot and muggy, and as the sun began to set, the bugs came out in droves. Mosquitos and moths buzzed around the house lights and lightening bugs created their own display in the shadowy yard._

_For several years prior, Finn had begged his mother for a tree house, but having neither the space, nor the tree, nor the means, it just wasn't going to happen. Finn had finally taken things into his own hands that summer. With Puck's help, he had constructed a make-shift tent by throwing old army blankets over the clothesline that ran alongside the house. They'd covered the ground beneath with broken up cardboard boxes and stuck thier sleeping bags inside. The side flap was decorated with a succinct sign: _No moms alloud.

_Finn hadn't seen his friend all day, but when he saw the faint wisps of a flashlight's glow from beneath the blanket, he knew exactly where to find him._

_He darted for the tent, ducked inside and clipped the flap shut with a clothes pin before turning around. "Hey!" He stopped._

_Puck sat in the corner on top of his sleeping bag, face in his knees and shoulders shaking. The flashlight lay on the cardboard beside him, dim light creating strange shadows in the small space._

_"Hey," Finn said again, much softer this time. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Puck cry in their lives. He didn't want to think about any of the days that had led up to it happening. This was major. He hurried forward and dropped to his knees on the sleeping bag. "What happened? What's wrong?"_

_Puck hiccuped and shook his head. "My dad..."_

_Finn could barely bring himself to whisper it aloud. "Did he die?"_

_"He left." Puck rubbed his forehead across his knees._

_That didn't make sense. "Why? Where'd he go?"_

_Puck shrugged his shoulders, struggled to take a deep breath and failed. "I don't-I don't think he's gonna come back."_

_"Not ever?" Finn grabbed at his friend's arms and scooted closer until his knees were bracketing Puck's._

_"Not ever. Never. I don't know whyyyy." The last word turned into a wheezing sob and for one terrifying second, Finn thought that maybe he should go get his mom. But, he knew Puck was in the fort for a reason, and later on, when he was feeling better, he would totally kick Finn's butt for 'momming' out on him._

_Finn closed his arms around Puck's back and turned his head against his shoulder. "It's okay," he told him, and "Don't worry," and "Don't be scared."_

_He prayed that Puck couldn't tell he was lying._


	4. June: Part 3

"_C__arpe diem! Rejoice while you are alive; enjoy the day; live life to the fullest; make the most of what you have. It is later than you think." _~Horace

* * *

Finn's first appointment is set for 11 a.m. tuesday morning. It's 10:32 and he's sitting on the front porch steps waiting for his mom when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and flips it open to find a message from Rachel.

_hey. sory i kind of freakd out the othr day. i get crzy about glee._

Finn smirks at this and hits reply. _Yea, i noticd._

He sets the phone down beside him on the warped, wooden step. He'd taken the first antibiotic last night, although he can't tell any difference now. His chest still feels tight and itchy, like the terrible beginnings of a harsh cold. He's actually excited to go for the first blood transfusion today. The doctor had said it would help with the symptoms and no dizziness plus being able to make it six hours without crashing on the couch sounds pretty great.

The sun is warm this morning. Despite the general lameness of Lima, Finn kind of thinks Ohio can be a really beautiful place, especially in the summer time.

The phone buzzes again. Finn picks it up.

_Are u mad?_

_No. i get it._

_i miss u_

He smiles at this, realizing it's been three entire days, which is the longest stretch he's gone without seeing Rachel since winter break.

_I miss u 2_

_Hey, whatre u doing 2day? we should go 2 the zoo! ...or something?_

_i cant_

_work? :(_

_no... _

Finn stops and holds the phone in his hands. He takes a deep breath and bows his head until his vision clears again. He doesn't want to tell Rachel about this. He really doesn't want to tell anyone. He really, really doesn't want it to be happening at all.

_Rach, i dont thnk this is wrking. its better when were just friends. _

He hits send before he can lose his nerve and then bows his head and prays _please by my friend, please be my friend._

Carol comes out the front door and closes it behind her with a solid thump. "Ready to go, babe?"

"Not really." Finn pulls himself up slowly and still sways for a minute once he's standing straight.

"Come on." With a hand on his back and at his elbow, Carol guides him to the car.

* * *

It's late afternoon by the time they get back. Finn falls onto the couch in a barely controlled flop. They'd been at the hospital a total of seven hours. The transfusion itself was a fairly boring event. However, the blood tests that had to be done before combined with waiting times and a few tests afterward to ensure he wasn't going to have any major reactions to the donor blood meant a lot of quality time at the hospital. He'd developed a slow-growing fever over the course of the transfusion, but the doctors had assured it was a mild reaction and should clear within the day. Finn had left the hospital with five new medications, in addition to the antibiotics he'd already gotten yesterday. The pills are all different colors and shapes. The antibiotic is the only one whose purpose he is sure of.

Finn had thought that the new blood would make him feel as good as new, but it's actually made him feel a bit worse. All the medications make him feel muddled and more confused than ever and its starting to seem like his mom is afraid of him. She tiptoes around the house and plasters on a smile that he can tell is fake from a mile away.

Plus, Rachel never replied to his text. _Please, be my friend, _he thinks and closes his eyes.

He burrows into the pile of blankets and pillows and soon, is asleep.

* * *

"Well, Finn, congratulations. I'm thoroughly disgusted by you."

Finn opens his eyes and realizes several things at once. He doesn't feel cold and hot anymore, no more fever. But, the dizziness is worse than ever. He has curled into an impossible pretzel in his sleep, sheet somehow pulled tight around his chest. His head is tipped back over the arm of the couch. A single, fat line of drool has worked its way out of the corner of his mouth, down his jaw, and onto the thin skin of his throat.

Kurt is sitting in the armchair across from the couch.

Finn sits up and swipes at the drool with the corner of the sheet. "Hey...hey, Kurt."

"Hello, Finn."

"What are you doing here?"

Kurt crosses his legs and smooths the wrinkles out of his skinny, charcoal gray trousers. "Despite my misgivings and my father's rude awakening to your true nature, it seems that love truly does conquer all. Your mom and my dad are still happy as clams together."

"Oh." Finn scratches at the back of his head. "And you're here?"

"For dinner. Your mom invited us over. Frankly, I think she needed a distraction from your sudden illness. I can tell because she's reverted back to the mom jeans, in a tapered leg, no less. What is wrong with you anyway? My dad didn't tell me much, but it must be serious to warrant that level of fashion failure."

"I don't wanna talk about it." Finn rubs at his eyes and drops his head into his hands.

"Maybe later." Finn can hear the tight smile in Kurt's voice. "Of course, if your I.Q. and social behavior are anything to go by, I'd say you've been a bit off your entire life."

Finn lifts his head and drops his hands between his knees, feels the pinch of too many needle sticks in his right arm. "Are you serious? Are you seriously saying this?"

"You know Finn, if you continue to judge and don't accept people as they are, you may find that others will return the favor."

Aware of his mother and Mr. Hummel just one wall away in the kitchen, Finn attempts to control his volume. "I never judged you."

"There is evidence that proves otherwise."

"I never judged you!" One shout and Finn knows it was too much. He leans back against the couch, chest heaving, and closes his eyes. This is, of course, when there are footsteps marching in from the kitchen.

"What's going on here?"

"Finn?"

Finn opens his eyes to see Mr. Hummel standing with a hand on the back of Kurt's chair and his mother leaning over him, reaching to feel his forehead. He brushes her hand away. "I'm fine. It's fine. Sorry." He risks a glance up at Mr. Hummel.

Somehow, the man manages to look both very scary and very concerned at the same time.

"Finn and I were just discussing some song choices for glee." Kurt laughs nervously. "We get a little too passionate about music sometimes."

"That's it?" Burt looks doubtful.

"Of course it is." Carol smiles at her son. "Are you feeling better?"

Finn nods minutely, aware of the attentions of Kurt and Mr. Hummel.

"I think your fever's down and your color is a lot better, too." There's relief in her face for the first time in days. "Let's go eat. Are you guys hungry?"

"Of course." Kurt stands and moves around the chair by his dad.

"Come on." Carol pats her son's leg and stands as well.

Finn hesitates. For the first time since he became ill, and he really can't even say when that was, (five months ago before the Vitamin D incident or yesterday?) Finn is self-conscious about his appearance. He already feels dizzy, already _feels_ that he is about as white as a sheet, and knows as soon as he stands it will only get worse. He doesn't want to show weakness in front of these people, doesn't want to show it in front of anyone.

"Uh...Mom? I'll be right there, okay?"

She's smiling at Burt and when she turns to Finn, her grin is still half-there. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

With one more doubtful look, Carol, Burt, and Kurt file toward the kitchen. Finn waits until he's certain they're gone to shuffle himself forward and, with the help of the couch, pull himself to his feet. The world dims for a moment. Finn closes his eyes and sways.

The hand at his back makes him jump. "Sit down, Finn."

"Kurt. Hey. What are you doing?"

"Sit."

Finn sits. Kurt circles the couch to sit beside him. For a long moment, Kurt just watches him, one hand still on his back. Then, Carol and Burt are coming into the living room, each carrying two full plates.

"I asked your Mom if we could eat in here." Kurt smiles. "I think we'll all be much more comfortable this way."

Finn accepts his plate from Mr. Hummel, confused by Kurt's mood swings. Then again, Finn is pretty much confused most of the time, so he lets it slide.

"Carol was telling me that you have to go back to the hospital tomorrow," Burt says.

"Yeah." Finn nods.

"Maybe I'll make dinner for us then. You guys can come over to our place when you finish up there." Burt looks very steadily at Finn while he speaks.

Finn knows an olive branch when he sees one (not literally, of course) but he does know that the man is once again trying to open his house to him.

"How nice," Carol coos. "Won't that be nice, Finn?"

Finn nods. "Yeah. Yes. Thank you."

No matter what Kurt is laughing at, he always manages to sound at least a little bit nervous, like he isn't sure anyone else will find it funny. "Before you know it, we'll all be co-habitating again."

Mr. Hummel makes an odd _hmm-huh_ noise that Finn can't even pretend to understand.

On the table beside him, his cell phone buzzes. He picks it up to find three new messages. When he opens it though, it turns out to be just one very long message from Rachel.

_Finn, u r proof that i do not understnd the male species. ur actions confuse and, i wll not lie, hurt me. i thought we were startng somethng great, but i guess i was wrng. i have been offrd a role in an OH high school drama super star group perfrmance of Grease at Playhouse Sqr in Cleveland. Ill be gone for a month and a half. i hope this will give us both time to think, however i would like to stay in touch. i realize that i should have just called to tell u all of this, but i dnt thnk i could stand to hear your voice rite now. i still care about u. c u soon. -Rachel_

Finn closes the phone and sets it on the table next to his forgotten plate.


	5. July: Part 1

-sorry about the long delay for this chapter. i couldn't get it to where i was happy with it. the next will be up much quicker! thank you to everyone that has been reading. :)

* * *

"_Never let go of hope. One day you will see that it all has finally come together. What you have always wished for has finally come to be. You will look back and laugh at what has passed and you will ask yourself... 'How did I get through all of that?"_

* * *

It turns out that Kurt was right, sort of. The Hummel's and Hudson's are co-habitating after three short weeks, with just one small alteration. They're all living at the Hudson's.

There's only two bedrooms (one of which was made into a small den, the reason for Finn's occupation of the second floor dormer/storage area) and one bathroom. The result of this is the addition of a second bed to Finn's room and a sign added to the outside of said small den that reads _No parents please. _

_"_Juvenile," Kurt had said.

"Necessary," Finn had replied.

For Finn, who had, in the last year, ended up sharing his room and sharing a room with a few people that he would never have anticipated sharing a room with, the arrangement works out surprisingly well. When Finn wants to sleep, Kurt goes to the den to watch TV or listen to music or work on the tone of his skin. When Kurt is in bed for his beauty rest at 11 p.m. sharp, Finn goes to the den to play Call of Duty until his brain explodes.

No one talks about the fact that staying in the Hudson house as opposed to the Hummel's house is for Finn's comfort. No one talks about the fact that Finn still sleeps on the couch more often than not and his favorite pillow rarely makes it back to his bed.

Despite the fact that Finn never filled Kurt in on his illness himself, he's pretty sure someone else did. Plus, Kurt's pretty smart anyway, so he probably just knows about stuff all on his own.

It's typically Kurt that reminds Finn to put on the blue surgical mask that he wears for at least twenty hours out of the day to keep from getting sick. It's Kurt that tells Finn to change the gauze wrap that covers the permanent IV access on his arm. It makes Finn uncomfortable at first, the same way he was uncomfortable before. But, then he realizes that this is a totally different Kurt. He's not being flirty or overbearing.

He's being careful.

It's something Finn isn't used to. He doesn't know how to take it and he really, really doesn't know that he deserves it.

* * *

"This is totally lamer than I expected."

From his place in a reclining chair, bag of O positive hooked up to his arm, Finn watches as Puck paces back and forth at his feet. "Sorry, dude. You didn't have to come."

Puck pauses, booted foot tapping the floor. "I know. I just...I felt... I felt wierd, like I needed to do something, like I should come here. God, I'm wierd. Why am I so wierd? This sucks."

"I love you too, man." Finn sighs and closes his eyes.

"What? No. Don't get all freaky on me now, Finn. Just because I had this...compulsion doesn't mean I like you or anything."

"Hey." Finn waits until Puck is looking at him. "I'm not mad at you anymore."

Puck stares at him for one long moment and then grins. "Good. 'Cause that would've been awkward at this point."

Finn smirks. This is why he's friends with Puck.

"You know, I should be mad at you," Puck says. "You left me at Sheets 'n' Shit and now I'm stuck there until I'm freakin' ancient, like _thirty_ or something."

"We'll be lucky to live that long," Finn says wistfully, thinking that thirty _is_ ancient. He realizes that may have been the wrong thing to say about two seconds after it comes out of his mouth.

Puck looks like he just woke up bald and he sinks onto the stool next to Finn's chair. "Dude..."

The door opens. Carol walks in, followed by Dr. Lemski. It's been awhile since Finn has seen the doctor, mostly dealing with the lab techs and hematologists in the city hospital. From the look on his mom's face, Dr. Lemski's presence isn't a good thing. She comes over to stand next to Finn, one hand on his arm. "How're you doing, sweetheart?"

"Okay."

"Hello Noah."

Puck stands up. "Ms. Hudson."

Carol rubs her son's arm. "Dr. Lemski wants to talk about how things are going and what the options are for our- for your future."

As the doctor starts to speak, it doesn't sound good. Finn lets the words wash over him, hopes that later, someone will explain it so he can understand, thinks that maybe he's better off not understanding. New drug therapies, the doctor is saying. A medication called Cytoxan. Time in the hospital. Things that will make him worse before they make him better, but they will make him better.

Finn closes his eyes and stops listening.

* * *

Finn is slumped in the chair in the den, xBox controller dangling from his left hand. The start-up screen for Bioshock has looped more times than he can count and he's pretty sure he's forgotten how to blink. When his phone rings from somewhere in the chair, moving is a process of reawakening each limb. His mom calls about five-hundred times a day when she has to work, so Finn digs the phone out from between the chair cushions, pulls the surgical mask away from his mouth, and answers without even checking the screen. "I'm fine."

The voice that comes back is not his mother. "H-hello? Finn?"

Finn is sitting straight up in a second, game controller forgotten on the floor. "Rachel?" He clears his throat and tries to sound strong. "Rachel. What are you-why-How are you?"

"I'm fine. Did I wake you up?"

"No. No. I'm fine. Everything's fine. What's up?"

"Sorry to bother you, but-"

"You're not bothering me," Finn interrupts.

Rachel laughs at this and when she speaks he can hear the smile in her voice. "Good to know. Listen, I know everything is wierd between us and I...really don't know how that even happened, but next week is my final show in Cleveland. I would really like it if you could come."

"I would love to," Finn says without hesitation. The line is quiet and he squints, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "Rachel?"

"I was just waiting for the 'but...'"

"But what?"

"Like, why you aren't going to come."

"I am going to come."

"Do you promise?"

"I'll be there. Don't worry."

She laughs again, a light, airy sound. "Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I...I miss you."

"I miss you, too. I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Finn." The line drops and Finn deflates back into the chair. He's pulling his mask back up over his mouth when Kurt opens the door.

"Hey." Kurt leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Hey." Finn picks the controller up off the floor and uses it to turn the xBox off. "What's up?"

Finn's pretty sure Kurt spent most of the day at the mall with Mercedes and Tina, which typically would have him in an awesome mood. But now, he isn't saying anything and it's making Finn a little nervous. He fidgets with his mask, pulling the elastic ties over his ears and then back again.

Kurt clears his throat. "You know, I could fix that up for you."

Finn pauses and touches the front of the mask hesitantly. "Fix it?" He really hopes it isn't broken and that it's keeping all the germs out so he doesn't get sick. From what Dr. Lemski had said, no white blood cells, meant no immunities (which meant you could get sick very easily; his mom had explained that part later).

"Yeah," Kurt goes on. "Ever since that whole swine flu business, surgical masks have become quite the fashion accessory. All you need is about five minutes with a sharpie to elevate that thing to a statement piece."

"A...what?"

"Statement piece." Kurt comes into the room and drops to the floor at Finn's feet. "My artistic abilities are somewhat lacking, but I think I could do a decent cartoon smile, or a clown face, or a cat mouth. Now, if we're talking true artistic expression, I personally would go with a nice ambiguous quote. Like, 'don't speak for me' or 'always use protection.'" He laughs to himself.

Finn blinks. "What?"

"Here." Kurt puts out a hand. "Give it to me."

Obediently, Finn pulls the elastic ties from behind his head and hands the mask to Kurt. "Just...don't mess it up."

"No worries." Two minutes later, the mask is covering FInn's mouth and nose again. In sketchy block letters across the front it reads, 'It's all good.' "

"There." Kurt smiles. "I think that suits you well."

"Uh, thanks?"

"That's what I'm here for." Kurt winks and stands up to leave.

"Hey, Kurt? I...I know I probably shouldn't be asking you for anything, but I really need a favor." Finn racks his brain trying to think of the best way to ask. He needs to get to Cleveland next Sunday and, in the deepest recesses of his brain, he knows that he shouldn't go at all. It's too far and there's sure to be a crowd of germ-ridden, contagious people inside the theater. There's no question though. He is going to go. Finn thinks the compromise of taking someone with him (or, someone taking him) makes the entire trip perfectly acceptable.

"I need...I need a ride somewhere. And you can't tell your Dad, or my Mom."

"Done."

"Wait...I haven't told you what it is yet."

"You don't have to." Kurt shrugs easily. "Road trip, subverting the parental authority. It already sounds too good to be true. Tell me there's a big city involved and I might just have to kiss you."

Cleveland is a big city, Finn thinks. Especially compared to Lima. He really doesn't want Kurt to kiss him though. He blinks at Kurt. Then, nods. Then, shakes his head.

"Oh, Finn." Kurt sighs. "At least you're cute."

* * *

Finn forgets that he is starting the Cytoxan therapy next week until his mom mentions arranging her's and Burt's schedules so that someone can always be around at the hospital with him.

Cytoxan sounds like the bad guy in a Batman comic.

Escaping to Cleveland for one night, even with help, has suddenly become much, much harder.


	6. July: Part 2

_"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." __~A.A. Milne_

* * *

It's Tuesday evening. Finn has no idea what's going on.

He came to the hospital this morning to start the new treatment. He'd brought the bag with clothes, and books, and music that his mom had helped him pack the night before. He'd taken every test and pill the doctors and nurses had asked him to. He'd sat and watched 2 bags of blood, 1 bag of platelets, and 1 bag of the clear liquid that is Cytoxan run down the line into his arm. He'd done everything right all day, which doesn't explain why he feels like absolute death now.

Finn tries to curl in tighter around his stomach and presses his face into the mattress of the hospital bed. There'd already been two visits to the bathroom to empty his stomach (the wrong way) and he really wishes for that to never happen again. Now, his throat burns, it feels like there's an elephant sitting on his chest, and his stomach continues to cramp. The beige room does crazy dips and turns every time he opens his eyes.

He really wants his mother.

It's almost eight o'clock. She'd left for work at three, which means at least three more hours before she'll be back. Finn has never felt like such a wimpy, mama's boy in his life.

When the door opens, Finn knows it can't be her, but he says a quick prayer before opening his eyes anyway.

Mr. Hummel is just easing down into the chair beside the bed.

Despite the fact that they are living together again and the house is generally peaceful, Finn can't remember the last time they had a conversation without the mediation of his mother. Even more so, the last time he had been alone with Mr. Hummel.

"Hey." Burt ducks a bit to see Finn's eyes. "How're you doing, kid?"

Finn doesn't even try to move. "Awesome."

"Well, at least your sense of humor is still intact."

"I don't think this-" Finn shifts his IV'd arm out. "-is working."

"Why's that?"

"Because medicine is supposed to make you feel better."

Burt smirks at this and shakes his head. "I think the goal is to make you better. Unfortunately, it doesn't always involve feeling better right away."

For the first time, Finn wonders about how Mrs. Hummel died. When he thinks of death, he can only do so in terms of his father. Death has always been quick and far away and sort of vague. It's nothing at all but a photograph and a jar of sand that came back from the desert.

For a long time as a child, Finn had thought that people had to go to the desert to die. Later, he found that this is not true.

Finn wonders if the way Kurt thinks about his mom is anything like the dreamy nothing that takes up space in his own head.

"Hey, Finn." Burt runs his hands over his knees and sticks his chin out. "Listen, I think...I think you and I are overdue for a talk."

Finn opens his eyes wide and tries to scoot up in the bed, but Burt holds out a hand to stop him. "Don't worry about moving. All you've got to do is listen, alright? And I think you know exactly what we need to talk about."

Finn nods.

"The first thing I want to tell you is that I don't regret anything I said to you that day. Kurt is my son. He is everything, everything to me and I will never sacrifice his well-being for even an ounce of my own happiness. Do you understand?"

Finn fidgets under Mr. Hummel's intense stare and fumbles with the top edge of the bed sheet. He nods.

"I talked to Kurt and he told me some things that may have changed the story a little bit. I know Kurt, so I don't think he told me everything, but I got enough. I am sorry that you felt rushed. I'm sorry that we forced you into a situation that you weren't comfortable with for a lot of reasons. And, I'm going to include your mom on this one, we're sorry that we didn't listen to what you were trying to say until it was too late. I hope that it never happens again."

Burt takes a deep breath and gazes around the room. He gestures at the machines beside the bed. "Maybe this isn't the right time to be saying all this, but I just couldn't let things settle the way they were."

"Are you doing this because I'm sick?" Finn tries to sit up. "'Cause I'm not dying or anything. I don't want an apology just because I'm like this. I know I really-"

"No. Don't think that. I'm saying this because I need to. I know...I know that between our two families we've had a lot of struggles in our lives. Finn, when I'm with your mother I feel like there's a chance for something good and happy in the world again. And, I don't want that to be just between the two of us. I want it to be for all of us. Okay?"

"Okay." Finn sinks back down onto the pillow.

"Remember that night, that first night that you got sick?"

Finn nods.

"I had something for you and it might have been a little premature then, but I think it's the right time now."

Finn frowns as Mr. Hummel digs into his jeans pocket. He pulls out a single, silver key.

"This is yours." He takes Finn's hand and presses the key into his palm and doesn't let go. "This is a key to my house given to someone that I hope will be a member of my family. Do you understand?"

Finn hardly dares a hint of a nod. He doesn't want to move.

"Between family, a lot of words are said. Good and bad, they're all just words. What-what you said that day is a word, Finn. Words are powerful, but in the end, they're still just words and your actions will over power them any day of the week. I think you've been a friend to my boy in the past and I don't think one moment should define a lifetime, whether it's good or bad. Okay?"

"Okay."

"As long as your mother and I are together, and I hope that's a long time, I want you to keep that key and use it whenever you really need to. We have two homes now and I won't ask you to leave for something as small as a word again, not unless it's truly meant." Burt lets go of Finn's hand and leans back in his chair.

"Thank you." Finn whispers, eyes on his hands.

"Don't make me regret it." Burt points at him and then stands. "I'm going to go get some coffee. You try and get some rest, alright?"

Finn watches him walk away toward the door. He curls his hand into a fist around the key, feels the bite of the ridges in his palm.

* * *

"Finn?"

"He's sleeping."

"Finn?"

"Not for long, I guess."

Finn struggles to open his eyes and squints against the light coming from the hospital hall. Backlit in that way, the two figures leaning over him look like dark shadowed blobs and he jerks back against the pillow.

"Hey. It's just me. Wake up, hunny."

Finn has to blink a few more times before the figures come into focus. "Mom."

Mr. Hummel stands just behind her. Without even thinking of the possible embarrassment factor, Finn tries to sit up and puts his arms out to his mother. She holds on tight and kisses the top of his head before letting go.

"How are you feeling?"

More awake, Finn takes a second to access. No more nausea. Super dizzy and sort of like the bed could drop out from under him at any second. And also, he really, really has to pee. He looks over toward the bathroom door. It drifts in his vision, left and then right.

"You gotta go?" Burt has followed his gaze.

Finn nods.

"Oh, okay." Carol starts pulling down the sheets for him and untangles the IV line from the bedrail. "We can just wait outside. Is that alright?"

_No, no, no_, is what Finn wants to say. Instead, he's nodding and pulling himself up using the bed rails.

Carol and Burt take a step back as he swings his legs down to the floor. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Yeah, I got it," Finn says. Somehow, this is convincing and they both leave, flicking the light on and closing the door behind.

Finn sits on the edge of the bed. Never in his life has an eight foot long stroll to the bathroom taken so much preparation. The distance seems outrageous. Truly, Finn would like to just lie back down and pretend that he went, but he's pretty sure he would be asleep and wetting the bed in minutes. Now that, would be really, really uncool.

Finn stares at the bathroom door some more, willing it closer. He stares at it so long that his room door pops open and Carol pokes her head in. "Finn, are you-" She realizes he's still sitting on the bed and steps fully into the room. "Did you go? What's wrong? Should we call the nurse? Are you okay? Finn? Hey." Her hands on his face are cool against his cheeks and he closes his eyes for a moment.

Carol turns and hollers into the hallway. "Burt!"

Suddenly, Burt is right there, an arm around Finn's shoulders and a hand on Carol's arm. Finn thinks this would be a good time to say something but all he manages is to keep a hold on the mattress below him and a couple of short, funny pants that sound like an overheating dog.

Everything goes quiet.

Time is lost.

Then, the world comes back like surfacing from a deep sea dive. Finn raises his head and draws in a noisy breath. "I'm good."

"I'm never believing you when you say that again." Carol is sitting beside him now, at the head of the bed. Burt is on the other side and there's a nurse in front, messing with a blood pressure cuff on his arm. The nurse steps away without taking the cuff off, which doesn't make sense to Finn until the thing starts to inflate all on it's own. Awesome.

"We'll keep a monitor going all night." The nurse assures Mrs. Hudson. "Don't worry." She smiles at all of them, sitting there in a row and Finn realizes, distantly, that she's pretty in an odd, messy kind of way. "So, still gotta go?" She points a thumb at the bathroom.

"Yes. Please," Finn says.

They all go to the bathroom. Carol and Burt on each side and the pretty nurse close behind.

Finn decides that the embarrassment scale has been reset. Every other event in his life that he thought was bad? Now, a zero. This right here?

Twenty-five out of ten.

* * *

Spending time in the hospital is sort of like being at school, except a lot less pleasant. You do everything that everybody tells you to do. Every day feels like forever, sitting there feeling like you want to die, but looking back its like no time at all.

It's sunday afternoon before Finn even realizes it's the weekend.

Kurt strolls into the room with a gigantic, yet still stylish, tote bag. "Greetings, Finn Hudson. I have a change of clothes right here for you, more fashionable than anything you would choose, I'm sure. The Land Rover is tuned up with a full tank. Rachel Berry is probably warming up as we speak. So, the only question is, are you ready for the jail break?"

"Small problem," Finn says from behind his blue mask. He holds up his arm with the blood pressure cuff attached. "If I take this off they'll think I'm dead and I'm pretty sure an alarm will go off and then we're done before we even get to the elevator."

"Not a problem." Kurt smiles tightly. "I brought back-up."

The room door bursts open so quickly, it hits the wall behind it. Puck doesn't even notice. "Dude, the parking sucks here. How long is this going to take? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I already saw one of those rent-a-cops eyeing my parking job."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Noah Puckerman." Kurt sets his bag at the foot of the bed and pulls out a pair of rubber gloves. He puts them on, eyeing the IV attached to Finn's arm. "First things, first. We need to move quickly. Noah, shut the door."

"It's Puck, tweedle-dee," Puck says, even as he's moving to obey.

A voice in Finn's head shouts, _bad idea! bad idea! retreat!_

He quiets it with a song.


	7. July: Part 3

_A/N: again, sorry for the big delay. I would love to get these chapters up quicker, but real life is just not agreeing right now. :( _

* * *

Finn is sitting in the passenger seat of Kurt's navigator, watching Kurt sing along with a Madonna CD. For the first time in a week, he doesn't have any tubes or wires attached to him. The IV access port in his arm is covered by the striped sleeves of his dress shirt. Finn runs his hands over his pants legs. Kurt bought him new clothes.

For as long as Finn can remember, almost all of his clothing came from the Wal-mart, or sometimes even Goodwill. When they were together and she was feeling generous, Quinn had helped him pick out nice things, but for the most part, he was stuck with Puck as a fashion consultant. Puck's advice usually consisted of anecdotes like, 'Plaid is always good. Lumberjacks wear it and they, like, never lose a fight.'

Today, Kurt bought him new clothes. Finn opens his mouth to say thank you, or wow or something, but what comes out is, "How did you know what size I wear?"

Kurt stops singing. "I was helping Carol with the laundry when I realized you probably didn't have anything decent to wear to Cleveland. So, I looked at the tags. I wasn't...being creepy or anything."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just...thank you. It's nice. It was very nice of you. You didn't have to get me new things."

"Please, Finn. I've been dying to dress you. I had to take advantage of this."

Finn blinks out the windshield. "Oh."

"That might have come out wrong." Kurt reaches over and hits a button on the dash. Madonna stops singing.

Finn thinks that maybe Kurt just wanted some quiet, so he turns to look out the window. He presses his sunglasses further up on his nose, adjusting the blue, surgical mask beneath them. It's a sunny afternoon and the highway runs through massive fields of corn, an odd farmhouse set in the middle like an island in the ocean.

"Listen, Finn," Kurt says. "I don't want things to be weird between us."

Finn jumps. "Me neither."

"It seems like we're stuck together for as long as our parents are and I don't want our problems to be an issue for them." Kurt pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and squints over at Finn. "We need to compromise."

"Compromise." Finn repeats the word.

Kurt sighs. "It's when you give in a little and the other person does too, so you can both be happy."

"I know what that means." Finn smiles.

"I can help you with your vocabulary, too. If you'd like."

"That...would be great."

"I'm convinced that there might actually be some good thoughts in that head of yours, you just need the words to express yourself better. For a while there, I thought that maybe you were foreign. But, now I know you're not, even though that kid from Malaysia that's in my math class does manage to speak better english than you."

"Musa? He's great."

Kurt grips the wheel tighter and focuses on the road. "Listen, Finn. It was...it was wrong for me to put you in the position of sharing a room with me and forcing my decor on you, though I'm still certain if I'd let you choose we'd have had cowboys and indians wallpaper."

"I...like my room."

"It's a closet, Finn. A dormer at best."

"It's-"

"That's not what we need to talk about. Anyway, I shouldn't have done that. I know I made you really uncomfortable and if it had been me, I probably would have freaked out a lot sooner. You handled it a lot better than most people would have."

"Thanks?"

"That being said, I can't forget what you said to me. Mostly because I did like you, a lot. And I did think you were different, especially after what you said when you thought I was asking you to the dance. To a degree, I blame myself, for stressing you to that point."

Finn starts shaking his head. "No..."

"Yes. I've been thinking, what if you were a girl and I was straight? How okay would that have been? Or vice versa, I don't know, Finn. Would you have said bitch or bastard or something else? Would those words have been more okay?"

"I don't...I don't know. I shouldn't have-"

"My point is that people say dumb things, especially when they're stressed or freaked out. I want to believe that you are different, Finn. Or even that you didn't realize the weight of your words, but, sometimes those dumb things hurt a lot."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." Kurt's smile is tight and he nods. "Me too."

"I'm gonna try and be better."

Kurt smiles whimsically and reaches over to flick the radio back on. "That's all any of us can do, I guess."

Finn almost laughs at this and Kurt gives him a strange look. "What was that?"

"What?"

"Why did you do that?"

"Oh," Finn says. "It's just that you reminded me a lot of your dad just now."

Kurt smiles and keeps smiling for a long time after that.

* * *

"That's a bad idea. Why are you doing that?"

In the middle of Cleveland, in the parking garage next to the theater, Finn is taking off his anti-germ mask. "I don't want to wear it."

"Don't want to? So, you want to get sick? Sicker? Like pneumonia sick, Finn. I'm certain you don't understand the ramifications here."

"Yes, I do." Finn tucks the mask into his pocket and smoothes the wrinkles out of his shirt.

"I'm certain you don't understand what ramifications means."

Finn doesn't say anything, busy running his hands over his hair. Kurt is staring at him, mouth just a little slack, he starts to nod. "You never told her you were sick, did you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Rachel Berry. You never told her about any of it, did you? I knew you were a little slow, Finn, but I didn't realize you were this dumb."

"She doesn't need to know. I don't...I don't want her to freak out."

"And you think she's never going to figure it out? And that the freak out when she inevitably does, isn't going to be epic? You just spent the last week in a hospital, Finn, and you look like it, too. Rachel Berry isn't stupid."

Finn chews on his lip, drums his fingers on his knee. He shoves the car door open. "C'mon."

* * *

In order to play Sandy, Rachel has to wear a long, blonde wig. For this reason, Finn spends the first half of the play waiting for Rachel to show up on stage. He thought she was playing the lead, after all.

Kurt elbows him halfway through 'Sandra D' and whispers, "I have to admit, for all of her flaws, the girl can sing." Finn feels a little dumb after that and spends the rest of the show with his mouth hanging half open in awe.

After the show is over, Rachel comes bounding out into the lobby with her own wavy, brown hair flying behind her and that's hard to miss. Still, Finn almost does, until she screeches his name.

"Finn!"

He has two seconds to open his arms before she's on him, arms wrapped tight around his middle. For a moment, he's so happy, he nearly thinks he could cry, but he takes a deep breath and keeps a lid on it.

Rachel steps away and smiles up at him sunnily. "I'm so glad you came. Thank you." She glances at Kurt standing off to the side behind Finn. "You too, Kurt. Thanks for coming."

"Oh, I'm only the chauffeur." Kurt laughs. "You were really wonderful, though."

"Thank you, Kurt. That means a lot coming from you." She blinks up at Finn. "What did you think?"

"It-It was awesome. You were awesome. I almost didn't recognize you up there."

Behind him, Kurt snorts. "Almost."

"Well, I watched the film no less than fifty times before rehearsals started. Olivia Newton John is probably everyone's favorite portrayer of Sandy and I wanted to get the nuances just right."

"They were great, the nuances. They were great." Finn nods.

Rachel tilts her head to the side and frowns. "Have you lost weight?"

Finn rocks back on his heels and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Hey, listen, Rach, I wanted to talk to you about...everything."

"No, really. I think you have." She reaches out to take a hold of his arm, measuring her grip around it. "Plus, you look all...peaked."

Finn pulls his arm back shyly. "Thanks, but I haven't been anywhere high lately. Listen, I wanted to talk about what I said before, about being friends and all."

"Why are you avoiding the subject?"

"I think you're avoiding my subject."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Rachel snaps. She presses her lips together and looks down at her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this."

"Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't..." Finn pauses and glances behind him. Kurt has wandered off to the other side of the lobby and is chatting with the boy that played Kinicky. He turns back to Rachel. "I really like you. I care about you. I meant what I said at regionals, I really, really did."

Rachel looks up at him from under her bangs. "But, you don't anymore?"

"No. Yes. I mean, what I mean is it's been a really long year and I'm just a little confused about everything. I thought that everything would get easier, but it hasn't and I just need some time to figure it out."

"We've had time."

"I know, but I don't want to jump into anything." Finn reaches out to take her hands. In the middle of the theater lobby, with about a thousand people milling around, he half expects one of them to break into a song. Rachel is looking at their hands with a half-smile on her face. Finn gives them a shake. "I love you. Okay? I do. But, I just want it to be slow. I want to take our time and I want you to be my friend, first. Please. Please, be my friend."

Rachel smiles. "No one has ever asked me to be their friend before."

"No one's ever made me feel like I could be more than a dumb jock and a Lima loser for the rest of my life."

Rachel nods coyly. "I think that's a fair trade."

Finn smiles and opens his arms. When he holds Rachel tight, he doesn't worry about any one around them or who might see, or what people might think. He doesn't think about a baby that isn't his and five-hundred lies that were told. He doesn't worry about what the next school year is going to be like and what is going on inside his blood vessels and bones and if he'll ever be normal again.

He presses his face against her hair and breathes.

* * *

"The finch has landed." Kurt's cellphone snaps shut and Finn jerks awake. "Good morning, sunshine. Or should I say, good midnight?"

Finn squints and rubs at his eyes. They're in the parking lot at the hospital. The clock on the dash says twelve thirty-two. He takes a deep breath and tries to wake up. "Sorry. I fell asleep."

"It's okay. It was a nice, quiet drive. It's rare that I'm able to enjoy such an uninterrupted span of time behind the wheel. Ready to check back in to the hotel?" Kurt undoes his seatbelt and climbs out of the car.

Finn tries to smile, but he can't get his eyes to stay more than half-way open. He fumbles with the door and shoves it open with his foot just as Kurt gets there.

"Let me help you." Kurt's leaning over him to undo the seatbelt, totally in his space, and for once, Finn really doesn't mind. "Ok. C'mon. Let's go."

Compliantly, Finn turns so he can slide out of the car. Kurt is right there, one hand on his arm to help. With one tiny hop, Finn's feet hit the blacktop, he fumbles at the car door, grabs for Kurt, but he's still sliding. His knees hit the pavement next and then his hands.

"Oh. Oh, no. Bad." Kurt dances around him. "You weren't supposed to do that."

Finn lets his head hang down between his shoulders and tries to breathe. He can hear Kurt on his cell phone, but the words are too fuzzy to make out. It seems like only a minute has passed when there's the pounding of a pair of boots running toward them.

"What the hell did you do?"

Finn knows that voice. It's the voice of a very pissed off Puckerman.

"I didn't do anything."

"I can see that."

There are hands under his arms and with very little effort on his part, Finn is on his feet between the two of them and shuffling toward the hospital entrance.

"Everything was fine until just now."

Finn's pretty sure he loses a minute, because the next thing he knows, they're jostling him out of the elevator.

"I should have taken him myself," Puck is saying. "Too bad I don't have a car. Too bad I don't have a rich papa around to buy me a new car."

"I'm not even going to respond to that. I know that your misplaced anger is nothing but over-abundant, yet truly admirable worry for your friend."

"Shut up and open the door," Puck says.

They're in the room, he's in his bed, and that's all Finn knows for a long time.

* * *

_to be continued!_


	8. August: Part 1

_A/N: So, my apologies for a delay before seem small now...sorry. :( I promise that this will be finished though, with a total of eleven chapters. My hope is to finish it before the new season. If I don't reply to your review, it's not because I haven't read and cherished it, but simply b/c I don't have the time at the moment. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and caring enough to let me know. :)_

_

* * *

_

When Finn wakes, it's to an empty hospital room. The bed is nearly flat which gives him a perfect view of the bag of the neon-colored plasma which hangs above his head. There's a tickling in his nose, which turns out to be one of those clear tube things that give oxygen. Finn has seen them in movies, so he's pretty sure that's what its for. He tries to sit up, but really, that's just too much work.

Without another thought, he's gone again.

The next time Finn opens his eyes, he isn't alone. Mr. Hummel is sitting in a chair beside the bed, flipping through a Lake & Stream magazine.

With the hand that doesn't have any wires or tubes attached, Finn reaches up to rub at his eyes. His hand is shaking now. The tubey thing under his nose is gone, but there's a hissing plastic mask in it's place. He glances up and sees that the bag of plasma has been replaced with some kind of clear liquid.

"Hey." Mr. Hummel sets the magazine aside and leans forward. "Long time no see."

Finn rests his hand on his chest to try and calm the shaking even though he can feel it running deeper than just his limbs. He squints around the room. "What time is it?"

"Almost six." When Finn continues to frown, he clarifies. "It's tuesday. Evening."

That was a very long time to sleep, Finn realizes. Possibly the longest he's ever slept in his life and he still feels like he could roll over and be out in a minute.

"You woke up a couple of times, but you were mostly out of it. Do you remember that?"

Finn shakes his head, no. Two whole days. He doesn't remember the last time he ate anything and yet, he is totally, definitely not hungry. His stomach is quivering right along with the rest of him.

"Doc says your having a reaction of some kind. He said that's why you're so tired and..." Burt gestures at him.

"Shaky," Finn says. It feels like his teeth are chattering.

With a jolt, he realizes that Rachel is probably back in town by now. He needs to thank Kurt, big time, for driving and Puck for taking up space in his hospital bed. Finn looks over at Mr. Hummel and realizes that, yes, they totally pulled off the great escape. He can't help but smile a little.

Mr. Hummel smirks. "What's that for?"

Finn just shakes his head again. "Nothing."

"Good dream? No, wait. I really don't want to know."

Finn smiles even harder at this. He glances around the room again, taking note of the stack of newspapers on the side table, the vase of yellow daisies on the windowsill, and a copy of Vogue magazine on the other chair. "Where is everybody?"

"Well, your Mom's at work. She'll be around a little later though. And, uh, I think the guys are at practice."

"Practice?"

Mr. Hummel wrings his hands together and studies the floor. "Football practice."

_Oh_. Finn sinks back into the bed and closes his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know-"

"No. It's okay." Finn tries to smile, but it's twitchy and crooked. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. You shouldn't be missing out. I know it must be hard."

For some reason, time in the hospital seems to slow down until the whole world seems to come to a complete stop. Finn had thought that the whole world included football and school, too. Missing out on football, and Finn isn't dumb enough to think he won't be missing out on the entire season, is like missing out on life. He's lost his life.

Mr. Hummel is looking at him, like one might look at a lit stick of dynamite. If Finn were well, and somebody told him that he couldn't play football, he would probably be exploding right now. It might even be an episode worthy of kicking a chair or punching a wall.

Right now though, he's just...too...tired.

Finn licks his lips and tries to swallow past the lump in his throat. "Thank you for being here."

"Finn, you don't have to..."

"I know you don't have to hang out here just because you're dating my Mom. But, you do it for her anyway. I don't know. Maybe you guys should get married." Finn half expects Mr. Hummel to laugh, but the man's face is dead serious.

"I'm here for you, too. Not just your Mom. I want you to know that."

"Thank you." Finn doesn't know what else to say. He turns onto his side, careful not to pinch the line in his arm. When his shoulders shake, it blends in with the rest of his shivers. When the pillow beneath his cheek grows wet, he pretends it's nothing. When he feels Mr. Hummel's hand settle in a comforting place on his back, he pretends he is asleep.

* * *

Outside the door, there are people yelling. Finn fumbles with the control for the bed in his sleepy, shaken haze, before pressing the button to move the head up. The door is just cracked, so he can't see anybody, but he can hear them. One voice strident and snapping, the other placating and maybe a little panicky. Both of them just a little bit too loud.

There's another voice there, too. Much lower and much more calm than the other two.

They're getting closer until Finn can make out the actual words and almost...almost...

"Maybe you shouldn't do this when you're angry!"

"Please, I've been made to wait almost two months, I'm not about to let someone dictate how much longer I should wait based on something as trivial as emotion."

"You're not going to stop her, dude."

"Well, you're certainly not helping!"

"Is this the room?"

"Yes, but-"

Finn jerks back against the bed when the door to his room flies open.

Rachel Berry stands in the doorway looking more than a little pissed off. "Finn Hudson."

Kurt hovers at her side while Puck stands just behind making crazy motions at her head. Finn almost smiles at him.

"I have no idea why you're laughing!' Rachel shrieks.

"I'm-I'm not. I wasn't."

"This is no laughing matter. I know that you fail to grasp the depth in a lot of situations, and truth be told that is a large part of your charm, but I thought that even you, Finn, would realize the seriousness this-" She throws her arms up at the ceiling. "-situation requires. I'll have you know that I spent the last twelve hours trying to compose myself enough to come here while simultaneously researching to the level of Harvard med-school the intimate details of your condition. _And_ I'll have you know that it is quite...very...serious." She deflates at the end of her rant and doesn't look so angry anymore. In fact, she kind of looks like she could cry.

Kurt motions at the door. "We'll just be outside. Yell if you need something."

Finn nods and both Puck and Kurt leave, closing the door behind them. "Rach, listen..."

Without a word she marches up to him and pulls her hand back. He turns his face and squints, waiting for the slap. Instead, her hand falls gently on his face, fingers brushing over the plastic edges of the oxygen mask that he wears.

"I can't do it," she murmers. "Just look at you."

"Rachel." He tries again, pulls her hand away from his face.

Her face hardens and she yanks her hand out of his grip, pointing a finger at his nose. "How dare you lie to me about this."

"I didn't lie."

"You didn't tell me. We're friends, Finn. More than friends, I thought."

"I didn't want you to freak out."

"I wouldn't have freaked out," Rachel defends. "I would be worried for you. I would be scared for you. Just like I am now." Her hands fall to rest on the thick blanket of the bed.

Finn watches her, so upset now, and realizes that it wasn't worth it. Her having not even two months without worry was not worth her having almost two months thinking he would lie to her and didn't totally need her in his life. He reaches up to pull the mask away from his mouth so that he can speak clearly. "You're right. I should have been honest with you. You're the only person that's never lied to me."

Rachel seems even more upset at this. She doesn't look at him, eyes still trained on the bed sheets, he can barely hear her speak. "I might have lied once."

Finn frowns. "What? When?"

"That one night, about Jesse and I? I wanted you to be jealous, so I lied. We didn't actually do anything."

She lied, Finn thinks. And then, thank God, nothing happened. And then, oh no...

"I lied, too."

It only takes Rachel a split second to make all the connections. If Finn felt sick before, he feels like absolute death now.

"With Santana?"

He nods. When the first, silent tear spills down her cheek, he has to look away. "I-I was so confused after Quinn and the baby and...and you and then Jesse came along and there was all this other stuff going on and I guess I just freaked out a little bit. I shouldn't have done it. It was dumb and it didn't mean anything. I felt so stupid right after and then I lied because I was...embarrassed I guess. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

Rachel sits down on the bed by his hip. "It shouldn't hurt. I was with Jesse and you were obviously a little lost. But, it does. It hurts."

"I'm sorry."

Rachel shrugs. "For what? For having a relationship with someone else? For lying about it? I did all of that, too."

"I'm sorry I did it. Not just to you." Finn leans his head back against the pillows.

"So, what do we do now?"

Finn shrugs. "Move on?"

"It's not that easy."

Finn just shrugs again. There is nothing he wants more in the world than for things to be a little bit easier. There is nothing he understands better than the fact that they never are.

He finds Rachel's hand in the folds of the blanket. With one shaking hand, he pulls it up to his mouth and presses a dry kiss to the ridge of her knuckles.

Rachel's gaze falls to where he holds her hand. His tremors are running up into her arm, too. "Are you okay? I mean, I know you're not, but is this...is this how it is?"

Finn lets go of her. "No. This is new. I guess it's worse."

"Well, does the doctor know? What are they doing?"

"I take...a lot of medicine."

Rachel frowns at him. "Finn."

He closes his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. They said that the last transfusion was bad." Finn's pretty proud that he knows how to use a word as large as _transfusion_ easily.

"Bad how?"

"Like, my blood didn't like the new blood."

Rachel's posture tightens. "I read about that. How many transfusions have you had?"

Finn shrugs. "A lot. And I have a thing-" He gestures in the area of his chest "-here."

"What? An infection?"

Finn nods without lifting his head from the pillow.

Rachel leans forward and snaps the oxygen mask back over his mouth and nose. "You should be using that not wearing it."

Finn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of the cool air. From half-open eyes, he watches Rachel. "Are you tired?"

She shakes her head. "No. I couldn't sleep now even if I was."

With a wince, Finn scoots over in the bed. "Maybe you should lay down."

"I just said I'm not tired. Why should I-" She stops and smiles. "Sneaky, Finn. Very sly."

He blinks slowly. He's losing the battle with his eyelids. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turns onto his side and pats the mattress. "It's a really comfy bed." After a moment, he hears and feels as she lies down so she's facing him. He smiles without opening his eyes. "See?"

"I've heard terrible things about hospital beds, but this one does seem to be an exception."

"Mm-hmm."

"Listen, this doesn't mean that we're okay. I'm still upset with you and with myself. If we want any chance at a lasting relationship we're going to have to work through our issues and learn to trust each other."

Finn is barely listening. He reaches out and latches onto her shirt sleeve, the first part his hand encounters.

There's a rustle as Rachel moves closer. Finn can feel the heat of her forehead close to his own. Just before he falls asleep, he hears her whisper, "I love you, too."

He can't be sure it's not a dream.

* * *

_(p.s. I changed the summary. I'm not sure if it makes more or less sense now. If you have an idea for a better one, feel free to let me know...)_


	9. August: Part 2

_Note: Despite all appearances, I do have every intention of finishing this. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure the characters in this story have little resemblance to the ones we've been seeing in this season. :/ Ah, well._

* * *

Finn is a mess. He knows it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers that he was maybe supposed to go home on thursday, barring any complications.

There must have been complications.

It seems like a lot of time is passing. The daisies on the windowsill of his room grow brown and then disappear altogether. The stack of newspapers and magazines grows taller.

The oxygen mask is still on his face. He actually thinks its nice now. It makes breathing feel a little less like he just ran wind sprints in full gear. He can even feel the sweat running from his forehead.

Sometime before or after that (it's really hard to tell) he wakes up feeling like his head's stuck in the dry, oppressive heat of an oven. All of the blankets are pulled up to his neck and he tries to move his arms to push them away.

"Hey. Finn?"

His mother is leaning over him, calming his movements with one hand on his arm. She straightens the blankets over him and smiles sadly. "Hi, baby."

He wants to reach out to her, wants her to pull him out of this mess, out of his own body. The strangled, desperate noise that comes out of his throat scares him back into silence.

"It's okay." She's running her fingers over his hair. "It's gonna be okay."

He remembers so many times on the football field, getting totally sacked. In practice, or at games, it didn't matter. The feeling was the same. Lying flat on your back in the field, wind gone out of your lungs, every nerve in your body trying to catch up with what just happened. This is just like that ever suspended moment.

Somewhere along the way, it becomes a dream. Finn is on his feet, sprinting down the field after a faceless opponent. He reaches, lurches, feels his fingers brush the numbers on the player's back.

The field never ends.

He never catches up.

* * *

"Hey. Okay. This is kind of lame."

"You say everything is lame."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do."

"Move guys." Some rustling.

"Okay. Hey, Finny. It's Puck. Um...I feel really dumb right now, but your mom said it would help if we visited and maybe brought something for you. Mike and Matt are here, too."

"Hey, man." A fist bumps his shoulder.

"Don't touch him."

"Chill out, Puckerman. I'm not going to break him."

Puck clears his throat. "Anyway, a lot of the team wanted to come, but I guess it's not good for a lot of people to be here right now, since we all have germs and stuff. So, we made this for you."

There's an unfurling of paper and then some hissed whispers about where to hang the thing.

"You can't see it, so I'm going to tell you that it says get well soon and there's a big number five in the middle and all the guys signed around the edges."

"Dude, even Tanaka signed it."

"No way. What'd he write?"

"It says 'feel better. maybe now you'll quit glee. -Coach Tanaka."

"Nice."

"Here's Karofsky: 'hey Finnessa, we didn't need a quarterback anyway."

"There's a smiley face after it."

"I don't think that makes it better."

"Hey, how come you didn't write anything, Puck?"

Puck scoffs. "Please. I don't write."

"We should probably go now."

"Yeah, okay. Finn, we're going to go because there's some other people here, too. We'll be back though. Don't go anywhere."

A hand pats at his foot. "Feel better, man."

"Bye, Finn."

The room is quiet again.

* * *

Artie's shoulders are at the same height as the bed.

When Finn squints, he looks like just a floating, talking head. It's creepy.

"Hi, Finn." Tina is on his other side.

"He has no idea we're here, does he?" Artie says.

"I don't think so."

Finn tries to keep up with their conversation, but his eyes aren't moving where he wants them to, like they've come loose in his head.

Artie maneuvers his wheelchair up as close to the bed as he can. He holds up a raggedy, gray, one-eyed, stuffed monkey. "This is Miles. I think you should have him." He reaches up to tuck the monkey against Finn's side. "After my accident, I was in the hospital a lot and Miles always made me feel better. I don't really need him anymore, so I figured you could use him now."

Tina is smiling at him. "That's really sweet."

Artie points at himself. "Marshmallow."

Finn kind of wants to roll his eyes, because it's like watching Burt and his mom get all gooey with each other. But, at the same time, it's nice to see two people happy together in almost any situation. He and Quinn had never quite been like that. Their might have been love there, but there was a lot of bitterness, too.

Tina touches his arm for a moment. "We're going to go now. I hope you feel better soon. Everyone is thinking about you."

Artie lifts Finn's hand like he's a doll and bumps their knuckles together. "Get well soon. If you stay here much longer, I might actually get a solo."

"Oh, please." Tina pulls his chair away from the bed and turns him toward the door.

"What? It's true."

"Maybe we could do some duets."

"See you soon, Finn," Artie calls back into the room.

The door closes softly behind them.

* * *

When Finn comes awake to find Rachel on one side of the bed and his mother on the other, he's pretty sure it's a nightmare. Rachel is sitting with a very straight spine, hands folded in her lap, while his mother is holding his hand.

Rachel has met Carol before, at sectionals, at a random parent-teacher conference, and maybe a few other times in passing. Still, Finn is pretty sure they've never actually had a conversation.

"I've done a lot of research," Rachel is saying. "And I truly believe that this illness has one of the best prognoses, considering the possible effects. In ten years, I'm sure this will just be a blip on the radar of life."

Carol smiles politely. "That's very nice."

Finn knows that his mother doesn't think about things the way that Rachel is saying. If he could, he would explain to Rachel now that, although very intelligent, his mom isn't technical. She became a widow at twenty-six and raised Finn all on her own and kept the house and worked all the time. She did it with grace and kindness and not by using phrases like 'radar of life.'

Next to Carol, Rachel seems like a dream, full of bubbles and sunshine and nothing concrete.

Carol is a rock, an island of calm.

Finn can't help but love them both.

* * *

The world has turned to shades of gray, light and dark with bursts of color. The blanket feels like itchy, uneven bricks laid across Finn's skin.

"Hey, sunshine."

It's hard to focus, but Finn can still make out Mercedes standing next to the bed. Quinn is shifting nervously behind her.

"We brought you something." Mercedes brings a vase of blooming, yellow roses from behind her back. As bright as the sun, they remind Finn of the dresses the girls wore during thier first mash-up. "Kurt said your room could use a little sprucing up and we figured these would do the trick, right Quinn?"

Quinn steps up to the edge of the bed. When she speaks, her expression doesn't change. "Right. Very cheerful."

Finn thinks, _thank you_. When he tries to say it, his mouth moves, but he's pretty sure he doesn't make a sound.

"It's okay." Mercedes smiles pleasantly. "You don't have to say anything. I'm just going to put them on the table here where you can see them." She moves away for a moment.

Quinn is left hovering at the bedside. After a moment, she leans down over him and kisses his forehead. Mouth near his ear, she whispers, "I'm so sorry." When she stands back up, she's definitely crying.

Finn never did like to see her upset. He wants to reach out to her, but all that happens is a twitch of his fingers. He's never been more frustrated or confused in his life.

Mercedes comes back and links her arm with Quinn's. "Do you want to go?"

Quinn shakes her head. "We should-we should pray first."

Finn never thought much about praying. He can't really tell the difference between it and just trying to think good things all the time (which is what his mom always told him to do).

Quinn and Mercedes take his and each other's hands and close thier eyes. Finn closes his eyes, too. He isn't quite sure what they're saying, but in the quiet of the hospital room, he thinks that maybe he feels something. It could be his imagination, but it seems like it's a little easier to breathe and that the warmth of thier hands is spreading through his limbs.

He thinks that maybe there could be something to this praying business after all.

* * *

Finn is awake. Not totally so, but more than he has been in a while.

Kurt is perched on the bed by Finn's hip; his feet are on the chair. He's talking and flipping through a magazine. "I told them to go home for a while since I do know how to use a cell phone and all. I mean, yeah, they're freaking out a little."

He stops for a moment, squinting at something in the magazine. "Anyway, football practice was terrible today. I couldn't focus. Plus, it was amazingly humid and I was sweating like a 500 pound gorilla in heat. I'm pretty sure that I could feel my pores clogging. I'm going to have to spend an extra half hour on my facial routine tonight just to be sure."

"Everyone says hello and asks how you're doing. I know you didn't really want anyone to know you were sick before, but it's a pretty hard secret to keep when no one has seen you anywhere all summer and you're not at football. Just so you know, Puck told them, not me. Don't be mad though. He did it in the middle of breaking Azimio's nose after he asked if you'd quit football to join a gay dance troupe. Which, by the way, actually sounds like a great idea right now."

Finn gets a hand to move and is reaching for Kurt's arm.

Kurt flips the magazine closed and stands up to toss it on the table.

Finn lets his hand fall back to the bed. He watches, frustrated, as Kurt makes his way over to the window. It's dark outside, but there's a glow from the halogen lights that line the parking lot.

"Oh, also, I hope you're not upset, but we've kind of moved back to our house. My house. The Hummel house. Whatever. It's confusing now. Your mom didn't like being at your house-the other house-the Hudson house without you. I have to admit, for such a small place, it did feel very, very...empty. Sleeping in your room without you there made me feel a bit creepy."

"It's strange, the way that things have gone for us. The fact that I can even say 'us' is strange. You'd better get well, Finn. No one would survive without you."

Kurt turns away from the window and begins to dig through his bag. When he stands up, he has a dollar in his hand. "I'm going to go get a coffee. I'll be right back."

Finn never hears him return.

* * *

The next time Finn wakes, he feels something he hasn't in quite some time. Clarity.

He blinks and the room around him actually becomes clear. Mercedes and Quinn's yellow roses sit on the table by the television. Artie's monkey is on the nightstand. The football team's banner is stuck to the wall beside the window.

The door of the room is all the way open and there is a handmade sign taped above the plastic room number. A glittering gold star covers most of the page and beneath that, 'Finn' in Rachel's looping cursive.

Finn is exhausted and ill. He's confused and scared. He can hardly speak and he doesn't know how long he's been in this weird sleeping, almost awake state. He can't even help when tears start to run from the corner's of his eyes.

"Hey, look who's here." Burt is standing at the foot of the bed, holding a coffee.

Kurt lays down his homework and Carol stands up from her chair to lean over him. "Hey." It doesn't take long for her to notice that something's wrong. She grabs a tissue from the nightstand to wipe at his temples. "Hey. Don't do that. Everything's okay. Are you hurting? Do you feel sick?"

He manages to shake his head. No, that's not the problem. Then, he nods. Yes, he feels sick. Yes, everything hurts.

He looks around at all three of them and then back up at his mother. When he tries to speak, he actually makes a sound that doesn't sound like a dying cat. "Mom."

Kurt is clutching his notebook to his chest. "I think he's scared."

Carol takes this information in stride, still dabbing away the tears. "That's okay. Don't be scared, baby."

"You're getting better." Kurt says it like an offering. "That's what the doctors told us."

Burt doesn't say anything. He just reaches down and settles his hand on Finn's ankle.

Kurt lets go of his book to wrap the fingers of one hand around Finn's palm.

Carol holds his face in her hands, mindful of tubes and wires and other grossness, and says, "Everything is going to be fine."

Finn can actually believe it.


End file.
